


Broken

by Bustyourphannie



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 15:39:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13274568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bustyourphannie/pseuds/Bustyourphannie
Summary: Phil breaks his wrist and Dan is there to assist.





	Broken

**Author's Note:**

> I had a dream that I was shaving Mark Ruffalo and it was super intimate so I decided to turn it into a phanfiction. Also sorry if there are mistakes, I don't have a beta because I don't have any friends :' )  
> This is shameless smut.

     "You idiot," Dan's voice was warm with fond annoyance as he watched the doctor wrap Phil's arm with a brace.  
     "Shut up," Phil retorted, looking overall unhappy. it was an appropriate response to the situation. Dan recalled it vividly. A fan had approached them on the street and Phil had somehow tripped over his gangly and clumsy legs. He had reached out with his wrist to absorb the fall and it had cracked sharply. The doctor said it was a clean break and set it then and there when they arrived.  
     "Make sure he takes his medication," the doctor was telling Dan sternly. He looked a bit like if Santa and an English professor had a baby. Dan nodded along and shot Phil a sympathetic smile. Phil glowered back uncharacteristically. He was cradling his injured wrist to his body and Dan felt his heart do a little flip at the sight.  
     "I definitely will," he answered, taking the paper with the prescription on it and pocketing it. He held out his hand.  
     "C'mon."  
Phil looked at him uneasily. "What, here?"  
Dan rolled his eyes. "Just to the door and then I'll let go."  
     "That's like a four foot walk," Phil protested and Dan's smile grew bigger. He loved stubborn Phil.  
     "So then hold my hand for four feet."  
     "How am I supposed to hold your hand if my wrist is broken," Phil argued relentlessly. Dan shot the doctor a serious look.  
     "How many pills does it take to knock him out for the night?"  
*****  
     "I can eat with my left hand," Phil was saying as he unceremoniously tipped the spoonful of Shreddies into his mouth. Milk dribbled down his chin. "You do it all the time." Dan watched him with a small frown, arms crossed over his chest. His black jumper felt soft against his fingers.  
     "Why can't I just feed you like a mother penguin?"  
Phil smiled and jammed his spoon into the bowl. "I'm not going to let you spoon feed me my cereal," his voice was firm and he pointed the spoon at Dan, splashing milk on the table. "That's just pathetic."  
    "I'll do the airplane noises," Dan laughed.  
    "Absolutely not."  
    "Give me the spoon."  
    "Fine."  
****  
    "Phil, this is the fifth time in twelve seconds that you've died," Dan paused the game and turned to see Phil awkwardly holding the ps4 controller. Phil looked up at him and pouted, his glasses crooked on his nose.  
    "I really want to play though," he complained. "It's hard to find things to do when you've got a broken hand."  
Dan reached over and straightened his glasses and in the same motion, pushed his black hair out of his eyes.  
   "I know, but maybe we can play a different game," he suggested. Phil sulked for a minute, considering that and then nodded.  
   "Fine," he sighed, setting his controller down. "What should we do?"  
    Dan smirked at him and eyed him suggestively. "I can think of something that don't involve your hands at all." Phil smiled at the brunette and sat up a little straighter. "I think I can get behind that." Dan leaned in and pressed his lips softly against Phil's before yanking away excitedly.  
    "Great, let me get my laptop and you can help me edit my new video."  
****  
    "You're scratching me," Dan whined as he pulled away from the kiss. The skin around his mouth was stinging and rubbed red.  
    "I thought you liked the stubble," Phil smirked, leaning in for another kiss.  
    "Not when it's taking my skin off," his hand reached up to block Phil's advances. But he left it on his cheek and stroked it softly. "And this is turning into more than stubble."      Phil pulled away with a small frown and lifted his injured arm. "This is my shaving hand. If I try with my left hand, I'll cut my face off."  
    Dan contemplated that for a moment before his brown eyes lit up. "How about I shave your face?"  
Phil laughed and shook his head. "You've never had to shave, you baby. You'll cut me more than if I do it myself."  
Dan rolled his eyes and got off the bed, taking Phil's uninjured hand, and tugging it gently. "Oh shut up, I could do it. In fact, I will do it. Successfully."  
    Phil raised an eyebrow but didn't protest as he followed Dan into their bathroom. If he was being honest, the prickly hairs on his face were beginning to bug him as well. And why not indulge in Dan's competitive nature?  
    "Okay, you sit down right there," Dan herded Phil onto the toilet and began rummaging through their cabinet. "I just need this, right?" He pulled out a green razor and waved it around. Phil instinctively shrank back. Before he could answer, Dan was already pulling out a cream coloured bottle. "And this. 'Shaving cream for sensitive skin'," he read aloud and then looked at Phil quizzically. "How much of this do I use?"  
    "However much you want," Phil replied, unable to keep a smile off his face. Dan looked adorable as he shifted his weight onto his left heel and read the instructions on the can. His hair fell softly over his forehead in chocolate-coloured ringlets.  
They didn't talk as Dan found a navy towel and wrapped it around Phil's neck, tucking it into the old pajama shirt he wore. Phil closed his eyes and relaxed as much as he could, laughing when Dan patted his face roughly with cold water and big hands. He heard the sound of the shaving cream and let out another little chuckle as Dan began to smear it softly over his jaw.  
    "How's your hand?" Dan asked quietly, his breath warm on Phil's face.  
    "I've stopped thinking about it. I think it's almost healed," Phil replied, trying not to move his face too much as he talked.  
Dan didn't reply as he rinsed his hands off and dried them. He picked up the razor and took a moment to prepare himself. Phil blinked open his eyes and smiled at him, his blue eyes giving away nothing.  
    "Don't move," Dan cautioned as he leaned over his best friend. His mind was swarmed with images of the razor slipping and blood, but he laughed nervously and slowly scraped the razor over Phil's tiny hairs.  
    "Am I hurting you?" he asked, voice low. Phil's blue eyes met his, and he knew that he was doing fine. Phil closed his eyes again and focused on the sound of Dan's breathing and the careful scrape of the razor.  
    "Thank you for doing this," Phil's voice was hardly more than a whisper, as to not startle Dan. He felt him pause and then felt a soft kiss on his forehead.  
    "Okay, I'm done," Dan finally announced, whisking away the navy blue towel, tapping the razor in the sink and stepping back to admire his work.  
    "How do I look?" Phil sat up, ready to rub his new, naked face, but Dan's fingers closed over his wrist and gently pushed his hand away.  
    "Hold on, I have to wipe the extra cream off."  
     He found a fluffy, white towel and ran it under warm water before leaning back in. He wiped carefully, and as he did, he trailed his nose along Phil's soft, still a bit prickly jaw. He smelled good there, like the vanilla cream of course, but also something else. Something entirely Phil. When he finished, he looked up, a little embarrassed, and his cheeks were stained a rosy red. Phil looked at him, eyes stormy and darkened with something heavy. He cupped Dan's cheek roughly with his unhurt hand and pressed his lips eagerly to the younger's.  
     Dan's fingers hooked themselves into Phil's shirt and he tugged, urging him up and back into the bedroom. They made it, stumbling, and Phil was pushed down onto the bed, Dan clambering unceremoniously over him. His knees pushed into the mattress and his breathing was already embarrassingly heavy.  
They didn't need to communicate about their wants, but instead kissed hungrily, needingly, and Dan pulled away every so often to press warm, wet kisses to Phil's newly shaven face. His mouth moved nimbly under Phil's jaw, allowing a quick and cocky smirk, as the older man arched his neck, fingers tugging Dan's short curls. Phil could feel Dan stiffening against his own thigh and he shuddered visibly, amazed at the feelings Dan still brought out in him after eight years of being together.  
     His hand left Dan's neck and traveled down, palming him expertly until the younger let out a soft moan. He tugged the sweats once and Dan immediately paused their kissing to yank them off, taking his pants off with them and tossing them on the floor. As Phil's hand wrapped around him, he removed his shirt simply because he felt unbalanced if he kept it on, and reattached his lips to Phil's. Messily. Too distracted as Phil pumped his hand along the length of him dryly. If he kept this up, he would come then and there, for sudden passions like this appeared a handful of times during the month.  
    "Let me suck you off," Dan finally panted out, fixing his brown stare on Phil, who nodded before he even finished.  
    "I want to too," Phil said as he moved into position, albeit awkwardly with his braced hand.  
    Dan pushed his boyfriend's pajamas down, knowing Phil wasn't wearing pants, and spit into his palm. He worked Phil until his cock was slick and closed his mouth around him. He relished the familiar taste of Phil, the soft skin gliding on his tongue, and sucked him like he hadn't done so in years. Moans spilled from his throat as Phil began to reciprocate. Usually, Phil would twist with his hand as he blew Dan, but using only his mouth seemed to be a challenge he was willing to accomplish. His tongue snaked up Dan's rigid cock and he rubbed his head on the roof of his mouth, knowing it felt similar to being inside of him.  
Phil was quieter, enjoying the sounds that Dan let out as they vibrated around him. It wasn't until Dan pulled back his foreskin with gentle fingers, and swirled his tongue around his tip, that he bucked against him. A warning. Dan was picky when it came to swallowing, but tonight he gripped Phil's thigh and took it down, not pulling back until he was sure Phil was done.  
    "Fuck," he breathed, propping himself on his elbows as Phil continued to work. He flicked his blue eyes up, and Dan's breath hitched at the image before him. Phil's cheeks red, lips plump and pupils blown, and he came without warning, earning a soft pinch from Phil, though he swallowed, with a roll of his eyes. Dan gave him a dimpled smile as he pulled back and flopped down on his back on the sheets.  
For a while, they said nothing, simply enjoying each other's presence, until finally, Dan piped up.  
    "I should shave you more often."  



End file.
